Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Botswana and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Cal Tjader to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
The Gun Club,
Graham Central Station,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Young Rascals,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Yaz,
Electric Prunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monks,
Deadbeat,
Kas Product,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Popol Vuh,
Darondo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bronski Beat,
The Wake,
Andrew Hill,
Depeche Mode,
Joensuu 1685,
48th St. Collective,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tubeway Army,
H. Thieme,
Robert Görl,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Leonard Cohen,
Scion,
Harry Pussy,
The Five Americans,
Joe Finger,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Moon,
Cheater Slicks,
James White and The Blacks,
Stetsasonic,
Ituana,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scratch Acid,
The Doors,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Eating Sloth,
Siglo XX,
The Last Poets,
Arcadia,
Rakim,
Roxette,
Franke,
Loose Ends,
Deepchord,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Y Pants,
Tomorrow,
Mantronix,
Little Man,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.